


Doll of Memories

by plauxia



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Dad is dead, Dolls, Fan AU, First actual good story, Homestuck - Freeform, I dunno how to tag, Jane is a doll, Other, Short Chapters, doll - Freeform, yay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-01-23
Packaged: 2018-05-15 16:14:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5792203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plauxia/pseuds/plauxia





	Doll of Memories

A little boy, 6 years old, runs up to his father who was simply reading a book as he waited for his cake to bake. With tears forming in the boy’s eyes behind rectangular glasses, he clutches onto his father. Hiding his face in the man’s shoulder, the sobs loudly emit from his small frame.  
With a soothing rub to the boy’s back, his father, James, asks him a simple three words of ‘What’s wrong John?’   
His voice soft and caring to John, the young boy’s ears. Sniffling, John tugs on James’s sleeve and leads him out of the kitchen. Stopping in front of an open door with steps descending down to a dimly lit room. John’s father, without spoken words, makes his way downstairs, his son squeezing past. 

In the corner lied a doll, about four and a half feet from the top of her head to the soles of her shoes. She was adorned in a powder blue dress with a bow in her hair, bottomed of with silk translucent socks and black patent leather dolly shoes. Her lips were painted a pale red color, and her cheeks dusted light pink. Her closed eyelids were a pale bluish color, almost white, which hid vibrant cyan eyes. Her eyes were shielded by red rimmed glasses, and in her small hands, a long spoon. 

John made his way over and lifted her head and shoulders, sitting down and laying them on his crossed legs. With a sniffle, the small boy speaks. “She fell over! I didn’t mean to hurt her…” John’s voice cracked as his cradled the doll’s head. 

James’s took notice to a visible crack on her cheek. 

With a sigh and shake of his head, James lifts the doll up and lies her on a bare shelf. “I’ll take a look at her later. Is the glass still there?” John shakes his head at his father’s question. The older man looks over his son just to confirm if he was honest or not. And indeed, there was not any glass to be seen from the porcelain doll. He looks at his son. “Did you pick it up?” He asks, furrowing his brows.   
A shake of the head and small voice that squeaks out a barely audible no. John looks down at the ground quietly. “Johnathan.” James says sternly. “Do not deceit me, young man.”

John, sighing, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out small pieces of pale porcelain glass. His father gently transfers the glass from the boy’s hands to his own. Taking off his hat, he put it into it. Hoping he’ll get all the pieces out to prevent cutting his head. Holding the hat of glass in one hand, he fixes his slick black hair and holds a hand out to John. “Come now. I think the cake should be about done.”

Taking his the older male’s hand, John follows him upstairs. But not without a small glance at the doll. 

After settling John down with cake, he gives him a bath and tucks him into bed. Making his way to the basement he places the doll in the corner and looks at her. Sighing, he sets the hat, still containing the glass down on the shelf where the doll sat just before. Ascending up the stairs, James locks the door to the basement.


End file.
